"Crap! I wish I hadn't seen Ricky on the sidewalk."

"You will be fine for 31 minutes. You will be dead in 32 minutes."

Monday, February 4, 2013

Tennis, Anyone?

I drove home Sunday morning and pulled weeds for about an hour.  That's all I can handle, sixty minutes in the garden.  Allergies.

I pulled weeds for as long as I could and if you stand in a certain spot, stare at the ground, and completely ignore your peripheral vision, the yard looks great.  I have more work to do, but it started to rain.  

I've never been so happy in my life.

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We made plans to play tennis in the afternoon, despite the shortage of public tennis courts in Tempe.  We drove to Kiwanis Rec Center but the office was closed for Super Bowl Sunday, which worked to our advantage.

There was a teen tournament in progress and some individual tennis instruction. We ran into a tennis mom and asked if it was okay for us to be there, so long as we found an empty court.  She waved us in, pointed us in the right direction.

We made a mental note not to swear in front of any youngsters.

There were six empty courts, well away from the action.  We played for 90 minutes, had a lot of fun.  We were a couple of Arthur Ashe-holes, running and swatting the ball and laughing a lot.

It sprinkled a little bit, but nothing serious.  Enough rain to get me out of pulling weeds, but not enough rain to stop playing tennis.

It reminded me of being ten years old, playing all day during summer vacation, and not wanting to come inside when my mother called me.

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